I Love My Job
by KatNH
Summary: A crossover between Supernatural and Ten Inch Hero. Dean and Sam find themselves in a frustrating situation, who will help them out of it? T for mild swearing.


**Hi, Readers. This is going to be a Supernatural/Ten Inch Hero crossover. I don't own either the show, movie, or any of the characters. Neither follows**

 **the exact storyline, but you may see some familiar events. I hope you like it, let me know!**

Sam and Dean sat at a small Chinese restaurant on their way to Hoboken, New Jersey. They were nearly finished eating, and the silence between the two was intense.

They'd been arguing since they left Kentucky and it was wearing both of them down.

The waitress stopped by with two fortune cookies and the check.

"Take care, Boys. Soon, you'll understand why the fighting is so trivial in the end," She said, and walked off.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, but shrugged off what the girl had said, opening their fortune cookies. A longtime tradition, never forgotten even when they were

fighting.

"Mine says 'Change can hurt, but it leads a path to something better.' You?" Sam said.

" 'You have a strong desire for a home, and your family interests will always come first.' That's not much of a fortune. More of an observation," Dean said.

 ****SPN/TIH****

He woke up, feeling odd. Unnerved even. It felt as though last night had been incomplete, like he'd just stopped in the middle of something and woke up in bed. He

glanced at the clock. Ten a.m. He had an hour to get to work. He went into the bathroom and spiked his hair into a double mohawk, spraying it red.

His apartment was small, but it was homely.

He walked into Beach City Grill about 11:20.

"Everybody relax!" He said, in his boisterous voice. "I'm here!"

"And so close to almost on time," Tish replied, their usual banter.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Like there was something he should be doing instead of making sub sandwiches and talking about Elvis and John

Lennon. He shrugged it off as best he could, and got down to work, bantering back and forth between Jen and Tish.

As he was cleaning the tables that night, Trucker startled him.

"Hey, Preistly?"

"Yeah?"

"Something's off about you today. Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Nah, not really. I think I just had a really weird dream last night. Like I left something unfinished."

"You gotta stop watching porn right before bed," Trucker laughed, and Priestly joined in.

That night, though, Priestly had a very weird dream. He dreamed about hunting a wendigo, killing it with a flare gun. He woke up in a cold sweat, it had seemed so real,

like it was a memory rather than a dream. It was only 3:30 a.m., but Priestly couldn't sleep, the reality-like dream still too vivid in his mind.

The next day at the sandwich shop was slow going, and Priestly was exhausted. In the middle of the afternoon, Zo came into the shop.

"This was in my mail by mistake," She said, handing Trucker an envelope. She then turned toward Priestly, "You aren't doing what you ought to be, Priestly. Is

something the matter?"

"No... No," Priestly lied. "What do you mean?"

"You'll find yourself, Priestly, I'm sure of it."

 ****SPN/TIH****

Sam was frantic. Dean had been gone when he woke up two days ago and he hadn't left a note. Dean hadn't come back and he wasn't answering his cell phone. Sam

had driven all over the small town they'd stayed in to no avail. That was other thing, Dean had left without taking the 1967 Chevy Impala: Sam was reaching the border

of frantic and heading straight toward utter panic. Sam stopped the car and got out in front of an empty park. It was a cold, bitter day and reflected Sam's feelings. He'd

give anything at this point to see his brother safe and well. Even though his brother had been so pig-headed ever since they left Kentucky, Sam didn't care right now, he

just wanted Dean back.

"Alright, Cas, I know you're really busy up in Heaven right now... But Cas, Dean has disappeared! Please, Cas, if you could—" Sam was interrupted.

"What is it, Sam?"

Sam turned to see Cas, in his suit, trench coat, and loose blue tie.

"Cas, Dean's gone. He disappeared, something's not right," Sam said.

"Where were you last?"

"I...We were in this Chinese restaurant, and—and then—then I woke up the next morning in the hotel room by myself," Sam said, confused.

"What is the last thing you remember doing?"

"Uh—We opened our fortunes, just like we always do," Sam said, softly.

"Let's go," Cas reached forward and touched Sam's forehead.

Suddenly, they were standing in the Chinese restaurant.

"Why are we here, Cas?" Sam asked.

"This is the last place you remember being with Dean, then you woke up alone, so this is where we'll start searching," Cas said.

Sam and Cas walked up to the register, where a young, dark-haired girl stood.

"Hey, um, I'm looking for the waitress that served my table a couple nights ago. She was tall, and blonde...?" Sam said, unsure.

"Honey, there ain't a blonde worker here. Never has been, unless you count Courtney who worked here for about a week three years ago," The girl said. "You must have

the wrong restaurant, sorry."

They left the restaurant and stood outside, it started to sprinkle.

"Cas, what is going on?" Sam asked, defeated. "I just want Dean to be okay. I want to tell him 'I'm sorry.'"

"What do you mean?"

"We'd been fighting before the restaurant."

"What did those fortunes say?"

 ****SPN/TIH****

Priestly had kept having the vivid nightmares, and had started confiding them to his little sub-shop family. Priestly had a massive crush on Tish, but she was only

interested in extremely hot surfer dudes; she never gave him a second glance.

Tish had recently been dating a guy named Tadd, and she came into Beach City Grill one morning with a cut and bruise on her forehead, muttering something about

falling while rollerblading. Priestly couldn't help but think that wasn't the actual story.

That night, when Tish walked out with Tadd, Priestly walked out the back door, just in case. When he saw Tadd hit Tish, Priestly darted forward and shoved Tadd as hard

as he could. "You do not hit her!"

"What the hell are you doing? She's a cheap piece of ass! Why do you even care what happens to her?!" Tadd yelled.

Priestly took Tadd out like he'd done it every day of his life. Like it was second nature for him. Jen and Trucker had come out in time to see Priestly smash Tadd's face

against the brick wall.

"How did you do that?" Tish asked, stunned.

"I have no idea," Priestly said, honestly.

"You just kicked that guy's ass! How did you do that?" Jen asked.

"I really have no idea!" Priestly yelled.

Suddenly, a vision flashed before his eyes. He was in a large room and a group of fanged girls chased him. He ran up the stairs, and a man came out of a room. He pulled

a machete, and sliced the man's head off. Priestly turned and cut off three of the girls' heads in succession. He ran out of the hallway onto a balcony that surrounded the

large room below, and a man jumped over the railing. Priestly cut into him, turned and cut into the man running at him from behind. He then cut the heads off of both

men. Again, Priestly turned, and there was another man coming at him. He cut the head off that one too. He jumped over the railing, and landed smoothly on his feet.

"You stopped nothing you know that?" A voice said, from somewhere in the room. Then another man appeared, he looked like a fat version of Slash. "This is much

bigger than you and me."

He beckoned Priestly to come after him. The fight was short, and Priestly sat on the edge of an end table, the fat man's head under his foot like a soccer ball.

"Priestly! Priestly! Are you okay?!" He was being shaken, roughly.

Opening his eyes, Trucker was kneeling in front of him. Priestly was leaning against the brick wall, heart pounding. He couldn't believe what he'd just seen, but it had

been so real. Like that had actually happened. He silently prayed for it to stop, for his life to go back to normal.

 ****SPN****

Cas and Sam were out of leads and even Cas had a slightly worried look on his face as they sat in the car. Sam had been steadily driving toward Hoboken, but knew in

his heart that Dean wasn't there.

"Dean just prayed," Cas said, and he was gone from the passenger seat of the Impala.

 ****SPN****

Trucker drove them all to his place and they sat outside together.

"Thank you, Priestly," Tish's soft voice said.

"Sure, anytime," Priestly said, he was still unnerved by that vision he'd had.

"Why would you, though? Tadd was right—"

"No, no he wasn't," Trucker snapped.

"Trucker's right. You're family, I'll do anything for my family," Priestly said, and he gave a faint smile to all of them.

...

The next day at the sub shop was quiet, somber. They chatted, yes, but they weren't boisterous and rowdy like normal. Around 4 p.m., a time where the sub shop was

often empty, the bell over the door rang out as someone walked in. Jen and Tish were in the back, gathering some supplies, so Priestly turned to greet the new

customer. He was an average looking guy, wearing a tan trench-coat, a suit, and a loose blue tie.

"How's it going man, what can I—" Priestly started, but the man was staring at him intently.

"You should take a picture, it'll last longer," Priestly tried to joke.

The man cocked his head to the side slightly, still staring.

"Dude, if you're just gonna gawk at me—"

"Dean! There you are, what happened to you?" The man had a surprisingly deep voice.

"Name's Priestly, can I get you anything?"

"Dean!" The man strode to the counter quickly.

"I'm not this 'Dean' person you speak of," Priestly was getting upset now.

"Of course you are. You're definitely Dean, except the hair...And that shirt. No, no actually Dean would wear that shirt," the man said, referring to Priestly's orgasm

donor shirt.

"Who the hell are you?!" Priestly snapped, as Jen and Tish came back in with supplies. They stopped and watched the scene unfolding before them.

"I am Castiel, you are Dean Winchester," the man replied, as though he and Priestly were having a cordial conversation. Priestly felt weird, like the name was familiar in

some way.

"Listen, Bud—"

"Cas! Cas you said you found him!" Another guy had ran into the small shop. He was ridiculously tall, his hair was long and he looked very worried. "Dean, what the hell

happened to you?"

The guy had turned his attention to Priestly.

"Priestly, what the hell are these guys talking about?" Tish said this.

"Okay, everybody relax!" Priestly said, in his boisterous voice, holding out his hands.

"Seriously, who the hell are you two?"

"Dean, I'm your brother!" the tall guy said. "Don't you—Remember?"

"My name is Priestly, not Dean," He was getting seriously annoyed. "I grew up here in Santa Cruz and I—"

Then, it all came back. Memories flooding through him. A fire, his little brother, growing up in a shiny black car, cutting off vampire's heads, shooting wendigos with flare

guns, being ripped apart by a hellhound, hell. His brother Sam. The angel that had brought him back from hell.

"Priestly! Oh, my god! What have you guys done to him?!" Tish and Jen were both kneeling in front of him when he came out of the flashback. They'd apparently leaned

him up against the counter. His face felt wet and he reached up. When he pulled away his fingers, there was blood on them. Nosebleed.

"What the hell?" Dean said, his voice deep, gravelly.

"What the—Priestly, it's us!" Jen said. "What's going on?"

Dean slowly stood up.

"I was in a Chinese restaurant with my brother, and now I'm laying here with a nosebleed," Dean said. "Cas, what are you doing here? Sam?"

"It seems Dean doesn't have any recollection of his time here," Cas said.

"Yes, Cas thanks, we got that," Sam replied. "Dean, you might want to take a look at your face."

"It's just a little blood, no big deal," Dean said.

"No, Dean...Just—" Sam grabbed a metal napkin holder and held it out.

"Sweet mother of god, what happened to my face?! My hair!"

"You two boys ruin ALL my fun!"

It seemed like everything except Sam, Dean and Cas were frozen.

They turned and saw Gabriel.

"I mean, c'mon. I was having so much fun and you boys just go and ruin it! How did you get your memory back anyway, Dean? You're supposed to be Boaz Priestly from

po-dunk town Tennessee.

"I'm sorry, excuse me, 'Boaz'?" Dean said, a mixed look of confusion and disgust on his face.

"Gabriel, what are you doing?" Castiel asked.

"Hey, bro! Look at you, descending from on high to linger with commoners!"

"Gabriel! Really?! You did this?" Sam asked.

"I have to have my fun somehow," He shrugged. "Dean, you look good in green spikes! You should keep them!"

Dean and Sam glared.

"We have people _dying_ in Hoboken, Gabriel," Dean growled, "So can you jus—"

Suddenly, the car swerved. Dean righted it and both waited until their hearts had stopped pounding to speak.

"My hair...?" Dean began.

"It's back to normal," Sam said, relief flooding his face.

"Boaz...What the hell," Dean commented.

"Listen, Dean, I'm sorry about the fight," Sam said.

"No apologies, Sammy, let's not get into that chick flick crap, I can't deal with it," Dean said. "Where the hell are we anyway?"

They looked for signs, and finally passed under one that said: Welcome to Arizona!

"Dammit, Gabriel," They cursed under their breath.


End file.
